


Broken Souls

by LadyWolf13



Series: Broken Souls [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Song of Ice & Fire, Angst, Battle of Blackwater Bay, Course Language, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sandor, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Game of Thrones - Freeform, GoT loving, Humour, Love Story, Love and Lust, Lust, Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV, Romance, Sandor POV, Scenes from book with alternate endings, Teasing, True Love, dub con, king’s landing, little bird, mild dubious consent, raunchy, sansan smut, smutty romance, the hound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:38:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWolf13/pseuds/LadyWolf13
Summary: Sandor finds himself in an awkward predicament after escorting Sansa back to her tower drunk.Based off ACOK chapter when Sandor catches Sansa running back late from the godswood after talking with Ser Dontos.***update*** I do feel I should put a slight warning here for some mild dubious consent in Chapter 3.





	1. Drunken Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This is my FIRST EVER fanfic so pleaseee be kind people haha. I LOVE the SanSan romance and I feel like many of you tired of waiting for GRRMs (god love him) final two books, so have decided to create my own reality instead...especially with the horrific HBO ending of their story! Hope you enjoy :)

He was drunk, she could smell it on his breath as he snarled in her face. She couldn’t say she wasn’t that upset to see him though, especially after all the paranoia after seeing Ser Dontos. Somehow she knew The Hound would never hurt her. 

‘What are you doing wandering about so late at this hour, little bird?’ He slurred angrily. ‘It’s almost as if he want to see yourself hurt. I’ll take you back to your cage.’

He grabbed her arm and pulled, shoving her back in the direction of her tower. She willingly obliged, she had to admit she was glad when he escorted her around, she felt safe with The Hound, inebriated or not. She remained quiet on their walk, she often didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with him. She couldn’t help but notice his steps were a little off balance due to the drink.

When safely back in her room, she was shocked to see he followed her in, standing and swaying slightly on the spot. ‘Ser -‘ she began, only to be cut off quickly. 

‘Not a ser, I’ve told you that.’ His voice was quiet, more resigned than usual. His eyes roamed her figure, lingering a little too long on her cleavage and the curve of her hips and legs. She blushed in the moonlit room. The light was hiding the burned side of his face, and Sansa felt brave enough to return his gaze. His eyes were dark, lustful, not their usual shade of angry gray. 

Shaking his head like a dog as if to rid clear his head, he spat ‘Seven hells I’ve had too much piss this time’, turning to back away and leave the room. In his drunken state, he stumbled on his feet and fell to the floor with an enormously loud crash.

Sansa gasped and rushed over. ‘Are you hurt?’ The fall seemed to have left Sandor in shock, he sat up slowly. ‘Of course not silly girl, would take a lot more to hurt me than that’. Yet as he tried to get up from his sitting position, his face winced in pain and he had obviously injured his lower back in the fall. ‘Fuck’, was all he managed as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. 

Sansa froze, not quite knowing what to do or how to help. She eventually gestured for him to make his way across the floor and lean against the wall, trying in vain to help as she took a heavily armoured arm in both of hers. He grunted in pain as he shifted himself up against the wall, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. 

‘Would - would you like me to call for the maester?’ Sansa asked timidly.

‘I’d sooner fuck Lady Tandy’s daughter than explain to the maester this predicament,’ he snarled at her. She blushed and looked at her feet at the crude words, yet knelt beside him all the same.

‘Look at me.’ His raspy voice seemed somehow softer. 

She nervously looked up, and her breath caught in her throat by the intensity of his stare. 

‘I still haven’t gotten my song, you know.’ Without any warning, he scooped her up by the waist and sat her in his lap roughly. She gasped and tried to wriggle free, but he groaned and said ‘I’d stop the squirming against my cock if I were you, Little Bird. You don’t want to give this dog a bone.’ He smirked at his own play on words, but she looked at him in shock as she slowed her movements, and tried to ignore that his closeness was making her heart beat faster and her legs feel weak. He had his arm wrapped so tightly around her waist, she had no choice but to relax her back into his chest, resigned and uncertain of what would happen next. 

He started to stroke her hair, oddly gently for such rough hands. As mean as he was, this was something her mother has done for her back home in Winterfell, and she breathed out a sad sigh mingled with a strange calmness. Her mind drifted and she almost forgot her misery of being trapped in Kings Landing. 

‘Such a pretty little Bird’ he whispered, voice sharp as a razor. Sansa had almost forgotten who she was with and where she was, she was in such a daze. His voice snapped her back to reality, and she jumped and looked back to catch the sad and longing look in the Hound’s eyes. 

She continued to observe him, the lines of his face and the rise and fall of his huge chest as he breathed deeply. 

‘You’re not as scary or mean like this’ Sansa blurted out. In a split second, the hair stroking stopped and he instead pulled her back roughly by the hair, the other hand closing around her throat. 

‘Am I not?’ He growled at her.  
She whimpered and did not respond.  
‘Well??’ He demanded, tightening the hand around her throat and giving her a shake. Her back was pressed against his solid chest, and her breathing shallow and fast.

‘P-please stop’, she choked out. She did not understand why he was so angry all the time. 

As if he could read her mind, he released her and said ‘you have no idea how frustrating this is for me, little bird. You are so innocent and sing such a sweet song, yet you are betrothed to a vile cunt. You deserve better, like one of the knights from your stories. I wish-‘

He cut off, unable to say anymore but his fist clenched. Sansa looked at him with a mild curiosity. Why did he care so much? After a few moments, she turned and reached out a hesitant hand to caress his unscarred cheek. 

His mouth twitched. She reached out her other hand to cup the scarred side of his face. He looked kinder in this light, less threatening. He met her gaze and the intensity between their stare could have cut the air like a knife. Without thinking, she leaned forward and closed the gap, pressing her soft lips against his.

He froze momentarily, before letting out a growl and kissing her back fiercely. His arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her against him tightly, relishing the feel of her pert teats against his chest. Instinctively Sansa wrapped both her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as she moaned softly into his mouth. 

Her moan encouraged Sandor to slip his tongue into her mouth, tasting all her sweetness. The front of his breeches were tightening painfully, his cock aching to wrap her legs around him and grind against the warmth between her legs, but he restrained himself. She was his little bird, and he would not force himself on her, as much as his animalistic desire wanted to. Instead he settled for running one hand through her beautifully soft hair, grabbing a fistful as he cradled the back of her head and plunged his tongue further in her mouth. 

Sansa could not quite believe what was happening, but she knew she didn’t want it to stop. She could feel strange sensations all over her body at his touch, all of them leading to pool at the wetness between her thighs making her want to move her hips against his, aching for more. She kept her legs firmly pressed shut however, enjoying the sensation of her nipples rubbing over his heavily armoured chest. She wished it was his bare skin. The hand that was wrapped around her waist roamed downwards to cup her ass, Sandor groping and feeling as much of her body as he could with his large hand. How long he had wanted to do that for. 

Sansa moaned again and it sent him over the edge. He broke the kiss, both of them gasping for air wild eyed and panting. 

“L-little bird’ He choked out. ‘We have to stop, otherwise I’m going to fuck you senseless, and we can’t have that. They’ll kill you if you lose your Maidenhead.’ Sansa didn’t say anything, just bit her lip in response. She couldn’t really think about anything right now other than The Hound and the feel of his rock hard manhood pressed against her. 

‘Gods be good don’t look at me like that, and help me get up before I get caught in your room.’ He gently pushed her off and up to her feet, his hand lingering on the back of her thigh longingly. 

She reluctantly stood, and turned to help pull him to his feet. He grunted but the pain in his back had subsided enough for him to stand. 

‘Will you - will you come and see me again?’ She asked in a small voice. 

He barked a deep chuckle, and in the blink of an eye he had her pinned against the wall, his massive body pressed against hers. His hand manoeuvred expertly between her skirts, finding his way to her already soaked smallclothes. His hand cupped her mound and he inhaled sharply, gritting his teeth as she let out a cry of pleasure. She had never felt anything so amazing, she yearned for him to move his hand and touch more of her, bucking her hips forward. 

‘Seems to me that you’d like if I paid you another little visit, wouldn’t you little bird?’ His voice was strained, he could not believe how wet she was for him. She moaned softly as she nodded, unable to speak as he rubbed her swollen clit gently with a large thumb. It was tortorously slow, she gripped his shoulders and squirmed against his hand, wanting more. 

‘Tell me what you want, girl.’ He snarled in her ear. She whimpered.

‘More...f-faster’ she breathed. Her voice was shaky and she was panting as if she had just run a flight of stairs. He groaned at her words, but withdrew his hand and stepped back. 

He shook his head. ‘Not tonight.’ He seemed to have sobered up considerably, and was back to his menacing demeanour. His eyes were still dark with lust however as he eyed her heaving chest one last time before turning and walking briskly out the door.

Sansa let out a weak cry and sunk to the floor. She had no idea what had just happened, but the throbbing between her legs did not stop for a very long time after The Hounds sudden departure.


	2. The Hound’s Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor reflects on the previous night, scarcely daring to believe Sansa’s desire for him. It couldn’t be true...could it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is purely from Sandor’s POV...I have tried to make it as realistic as possible/similar to GRRMs characters as that’s how I like my fanfic ;) so apologies for the language but this is the stuff I imagine would be going through The Hound’s head. Relatively short as I like to keep things short and sweet, but building up for the final smuttiness of the next chapter....Enjoy!

Seven hells, why did you do that? Stupid dog. Uncontrollable dog, he thought bitterly as he reflected on the previous evening.

When he woke up, he wasn’t even sure it had happened, hoped it had been a blissful dream brought on from the wine. But as he shifted in the bed, the painful twinge in his back served as a stabbing reminder of last nights events.

Yep, that happened. You made a fool of yourself in front of the little bird, drooling over her like a starving dog. He let out a huge sigh, not wanting to but forcing himself to going over what happened slowly in his mind.

And then it came back to him - the soft mewling that came from her sweet mouth, her cry when he had cupped her warm mound under her skirts....how wet her little cunt had been when he rubbed her. Surely he couldn’t have dreamt that. His cock tingled at the thought of it, little Sansa Stark getting herself all hot and bothered from him. _Him_. Him with the horrible scars and burned face. Surely not. The bubble of hope in his chest burst. Gods, what was that? He had felt a pang of emotion thinking about her actually enjoying kissing him, and he didn’t like it. What was this girl doing to him?

Ever since he had spied her walking with her pet wolf the day Cunt Joffrey had gotten himself into that child’s play with her younger sister, that wolf bitch - he had been infatuated. She had been so coy, walking along shaking like a leaf, frightened of everyone and everything. Guess I shouldn’t feel so bad about her being terrified of my face, he reflected bitterly. But there had been something about her that had captivated him...something nurturing, something kind. But also fierce. She was confident when she spoke, and she knew all her pretty little words to say.

He had been taken aback when he lightly brushed her shoulder to tell her about Ilyn. She had looked up at him with the most piercing blue eyes, and he almost forgot what he was going to say. There was something electric there, but he was a fucking disgusting dog for thinking the thoughts he did. He imagined those blue eyes looking up at him as her soft lips wrapped around his cock, flicking her tongue over the tip and sucking lightly as she moaned at him filling her mouth. He had never wanked harder that night, shame filling him as soon as he finished.

He couldn’t help it though, there was something about her he could not shake. Yet it was nothing he could act upon of course, he was a Lannister dog and he knew they had it in for the Starks. No good was coming to that family, he knew it as soon as they had departed Winterfell. He knew how little Robert actually had to do with the Royal affairs in King’s Landing. Plus the fact she had not even flowered yet, so he had pushed his dirty thoughts aside and observed her from afar, completely cut off from any sort of feelings or emotion towards her. He did slip one night though, when he drunkenly escorted her back to her tower after the tourney, he told her all about Gregor and how he burned his face over a toy. The next day he berated himself, he had no idea why the _fuck_ he felt compelled to tell her that.

Then Cunt Joffrey had to go and kill her father. Ned Stark, loyal cunt he was only to go and get himself killed. He loved his children though, no one could deny that. And they loved him fiercely. That day had broken the little bird, he could see it. The way she spoke, the way she carried herself. She no longer chirped away like the little bird she was. Now she was a caged bird trapped. And he was a hound, trapped and sworn to protect the vilest cunt he had ever laid eyes upon. The thought sickened him, and only angered him further.

He remembered how she had been when the Royal Cunt himself had burst into her tower days after he gave the order to behead her father. Joffrey ordered him to drag Sansa from her bed, and like the loyal dog he was he obliged. He hadn’t been prepared for her lack of clothing though, she was clad in the thinnest silk shift he had even seen, stark naked underneath as he could clearly  
see and feel as she wriggled against him. She might as well have been wearing nothing at all with how clearly he could see her soft pink nipples underneath. He had wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her chest and suckle at those teats and throw her up against the wall. Instead, he gently turned her and pushed her towards her wardrobe.

‘Do as you’re bid, child.’

His hand had lingered on the small of her back, relishing the warmth of her skin. She clearly had not showered or dressed since the beheading, but he could not fathom how beautiful she was, and her scent had lingered with him for the remainder of the day. And that night, when he again took himself in hand and pumped himself hard thinking of her in that thin little shift.

Seven fucking hells, what is wrong with you dog? Still thinking of this years later...he gritted his teeth as he shook his head and scowled at the ceiling. Pathetic.

And yet....dare he think it? She had been dripping wet from kissing him the previous night. He felt it on his fingers. There was no imagining that. Gods how he had wanted to lick her wetness off them, just to taste her. She would taste sweeter than honey. She had desired him, stupid little girl. It made his cock throb. He didn’t know how much longer he could go avoiding her, it had taken all his restraint to leave the room last night. Especially now that he knew she wanted him. Poor thing. She probably didn’t know what she wanted, he convinced himself.

That would be it. The poor girl is starved of attention and lonely, of course she was desperate enough to kiss you. It didn’t mean anything. He closed his eyes, and vowed to stay away from her as he rubbed himself slowly, thinking of how sweetly she would sing while he thrust into her tight cunt over and over again.

It wasn’t long until he finished, whispering her name as he did.


	3. The Final Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor revisits Sansa on the night of the Blackwater Bay battle. When she refuses to go with him, things get a little heated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter is pure smut, with a little bit of angst in the end. Remember Sandor is still The Hound, he is rough and needs to be retaught love. This is intended to be the final chapter...however I do want Sandor and Sansa to meet again in future so there may be an accompanying Part 2. I’m still getting used to AO3 wording, is that right? Haha. Please feel free to leave me any feedback!

The room was pitch black. Sansa fumbled with the lock on her door, fearing Ser Ilyn would come bounding through at any second. She was breathing rapidly as she crossed the room to reach for the doll her father had given her, desperate for any form of comfort during this terrifying battle.She knew the doll was childish, and she was no child anymore. She’d had her first moonblood a week ago, had even lied to Queen Cersei about still having it tonight. She wanted desperately to hold off as long as she could in having to make love to Joffrey. _Make_ _love_ , she thought bitterly. As if a monster such as Joffrey would be capable of such an act.

A shadow in the corner of the room moved, and Sansa jumped and went to scream, but nothing came out. She was frozen in fear, her voice disappearing in her chest. Heart racing, she backed towards the door, not sure what fate would be worse.

‘It’s only me, little bird’, a familiar voice rasped. She breathed out a sigh, unaware she had stopped breathing until that point. The Hound stepped forward in the dark, and an explosion of fire outside lit the windowsill, exposing his bloodied face. He was covered in dirt, sweat and grime. He had never looked more terrifying and...strong. Sansa inhaled sharply and tried to keep her voice steady.

‘W-what are you doing here?’ She asked, finding her voice. They had not been alone together since their last encounter, which Sansa remembered with a flush. It almost felt like it hadn’t been real it was that long ago. She dreamt about it often though, the feel of his rough hands on her skin....caressing her, holding her. She felt safe in those dreams, and always awoke disappointed. And damp between her thighs.

‘I’m leaving.’ The Hound said curtly. There was a slur to his voice, and she quickly realised he had had a lot of wine, with a wineskin on her bedside table. Has he been sleeping in my bed?

‘What about Joffrey? And King’s Landing?’

‘Fuck him, fuck them all. I’m going someplace cool, away from the fire. Somewhere North.’

‘North?’

‘Yes, North. I could take you with me, take you back home to Winterfell. Would you like that?’ There was a pause. Sansa had a moment of despair, she wanted more than anything to go and she trusted The Hound in that he wouldn’t ever hurt her. But she knew in his drunken state he would never make it through all the guards in lockdown, and with the blazing fires going on. Eyes brimming with tears, she replied ‘I can’t.’

All of a sudden, he crossed the room and grabbed her wrist tightly. It hurt. He was always more rough when he was drunk. All the times she had been abused by Joffreys Kingsguard, he had never hit her. He was always gentle with her. Except for that night, the one that felt like a dream. And now. His pull on her arm snapped her back to reality.

‘You’re going to give me that song now, Little Bird. If you refuse to come with me, this is how it must be.’ His voice was harsh as he stared down at her, breathing heavily through dark eyes. She could smell the wine on his breath, and the stench of blood was overwhelming. She could also smell something else - something earthy and warm, she liked it. Without warning, he shoved her down on the bed on her back. A second later, he was crushing her as he kissed her deeply, desperately. There was a need in the pressure of his lips, and the way his hands grasped her hips. She was sure she would bruise. The weight of him on her was too much, she knew she wouldn’t be able to push him off even if she tried. She desired him, and had thought about his hands touching and caressing her all over almost every night since they last met. But she didn’t know how to react to him in this state. She wanted to comfort him, reassure him. He seemed hurt, pained in his touch. He seemed to need comforting, yet the bulge against her thigh indicated he needed something else as well.

She gasped as his lips made their way down her neck, nipping and licking her supple skin.

‘You taste so fucking good.’ He growled against her neck, a huge hand coming up to squeeze her breast. She arched her back in pleasure, letting out a soft moan. She let her thighs part to either side of him, allowing the bulk of his manhood to press directly against her soft sex. His cock was throbbing as she ground against him, he thought he had dreamt her desire for him that night but it was as clear as the fire in the night sky outside. How he wished he could thrust himself into her tight little cunt and fuck her so hard she screamed. He knew she would be in danger if he did though, curse her for not coming with him. So he decided to do something else instead. Something he could at least remember and finish himself off to when he fucked his hand later to her memory.

Overcome with desire, he knelt on the floor before the bed and dragged her by the legs towards him, resting a thigh on each of his shoulders and roughly hiking up her skirts to her waist. Her heart was racing, she really did not know what was happening, but the feel of his hot breath on her inner thigh was already dampening her smallclothes, and the familiar ache for him returned. He kissed her inner thigh, sensing her arousal but also innocence.

‘No need to be frightened little bird. I’m a starving dog and I am going to taste your sweet little cunt before I go. I may never get another chance. I told you you would give me a song one day. Just for me, little bird. I want to make you sing, and taste your honey all over my lips. Permit me this one happy memory.’

With that, he ripped her silk smallclothes and tossed them to the floor beside him. His tongue was slow and deliberate, sliding over her swollen nub and growling in pure ecstasy at the taste and wetness of her. Sanaa’s breath caught in her throat, and her head rolled back in deep pleasure feeling his hot mouth on her sensitive bundle of nerves. She never knew something could be so pleasurable. After a few moments of tantalisingly slow licking, his lips replaced his tongue, sucking at her clit with a desperate need. It was as if he had an unquenchable thirst, lapping at the juices between her thighs as she squirmed and panted underneath. Her noises were encouraging him beyond belief, he had paid to do this to whores once or twice but they never seemed to enjoy it. She turned him on so fucking much, and he needed to taste more of her.

Sansa instinctively reached down to run her hands through his surprisingly soft brown hair, grinding her hips against his mouth, moaning uncontrollably as she did so. Her state of arousal made him incredibly smug and confident in his actions. The Hound chuckled against her slickness, the vibration causing Sansa to shiver and jolt at the pleasure from the sensation.

‘Now now, Little Bird. As much as I want you to come all over my mouth, I’m not quite finished tasting you. So you will be a good girl and sit still.’ With that, he grasped each of her wrists and shoved them down on either side of her, plunging his face back in between her thighs. After that however his pace quickened, and he was thoroughly enjoying feeling her tense her thighs to stop herself from grinding against his face like he had commanded. He looked up at her, tongue flicking up and down and plunging inside her, and was taken aback by her beauty. Her face was completely flushed, auburn hair sprawled around her. Her eyes had rolled back in pleasure and she was moaning over and over again.

He didn’t think it was possible for her to get any wetter, but he realised quickly she must have as her juices were soaking his chin. He lapped them up, hungrier than ever for her sweetness. Once he felt satisfied, he kissed her throbbing nub over and over.

‘Does that feel good, little bird?’ He asked in between kisses. She was writhing on the bed, as much as she could with her wrists bound.

‘Gods, yes. Please, Sandor.’ She panted.

He was pleasantly surprised at her calling him by his first name, she never had before.

‘Please what?’ He replied amused, gliding his tongue over her juicy nub. His teasing was sending him over the edge as well, and he had to fight back the urge to take himself in hand right there and then.

‘P-please...I don’t know, it feels soo good. I want - I need...please,’ Sansa breathed, not able to put a sentence together. There was an immense pressure building inside her, she could not describe it but she knew she needed more of whatever it was, and she wanted it NOW. Unable to stop herself, she jerked her hips upwards against The Hounds mouth, seeking that release.

‘Mmm....seems that my little bird is ready to sing me a song,’ he whispered against her wet folds. Not wanting to torture her anymore, and needing to taste as much of her possible, he released her wrists and replaced his hands under her perfect little ass, positioning her wet, warm cunt in an even better angle to taste. He licked, sucked and kissed her swollen lips in a frenzy, groaning as his tongue delved inside of her. He could not get enough of her, wetness dripping down her thighs and all over his face. He could feel her orgasm building, feel her body start to tighten and her thighs clamp around his face. Her hips rolled forward seductively and with increasing pace as she purred and panted towards her release. She lost all ladylike manners as she gripped his head desperately all of a sudden, screaming and writhing against his mouth as her orgasm consumed her.

The continued moans she let out as wave after wave came crashing over was the sweetest thing he had ever heard. The wait for her song had been worth it. He slowly kissed her centre nub as she came down from her high, which made her jolt with the sensitivity, and she let out a little giggle. He could not help but stare at her beautiful little mound, oozing with her juices and still glistening, and wanting nothing more but to sheath his cock deep inside of her.

He grunted with the temptation, releasing his throbbing member from his breeches finally. He couldn’t hold off any longer. He knew he was only a few pumps from spilling his seed anyway. Sansas song had sent him over the edge. Taking himself in hand, he stroked himself quickly to ease the aching from his engorged cock. He started lapping at the wetness between Sansas thighs again, earning a shocked squeal from her from the sensitive bundle of nerves. Fuck, she tasted good. He looked up at her from between her legs, hand pumping hard, and locked eyes with her. At the very same moment, she bit her lip as she looked down at him devouring her. That did it. His orgasm consumed him, constricting all his muscles, and he quickly grabbed Sansas’ ripped smallclothes to spill his seed in as wave after wave washed over him. He cried out, muffled from his mouth being filled Sansas soaking folds. He continued to suck at her nub while she squirmed from the overstimulation, the hot liquid from his seed spurted into her discarded small cloth. So this is what heaven must feel like, Sandor thought. Thank the buggering gods.

Finally, he slumped to the ground, affects of the orgasm and alcohol taking its toll. He was still breathing heavily when Sansa sat up, readjusting her skirts. She lowered herself to the ground and sat in his lap, arms looping around his neck.

‘Sandor, please don’t go. Stay with me here.’ She begged shyly. There was a long pause.

‘I can’t, Little Bird. Come with me, I’ll keep you safe.’ He rasped.

‘I can’t. I am betrothed to Joffrey,’ She said, miserable.

‘The cunt is probably long dead,’ he muttered. He couldn’t look at her. He did not understand why she wouldn’t just come with him. Stupid little bird. His little bird.

The injustice of it all was too much, and he flung her from his lap. She cried out painfully as her bottom hit the floor, and Sandor could feel her reproachful look. Before she could say anything, he ripped off his white cloak and tossed it next to her, never looking at her.He strode from the room, shutting the door with a hard snap behind him.


End file.
